


Waking

by deedeeinfj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morning at Grimmauld Place</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on Livejournal, 2003.

Sirius slowly opened one eye and greeted the rising sun with the most unwelcoming and impatient of looks. He took one long breath to fill himself with warmth, clean sheets, and skin, then released it in a contented sigh against a bony shoulder. Remus stirred, but didn't wake. He slept with one arm under Sirius' neck, the other draped across his own stomach, mouth slightly open, one leg forming a lazy V under the bedclothes. Closing his eye again, Sirius shifted closer to Remus. He slid his leg over the hooked knee and leaned to touch Remus' throat with his lips.   
  
"Rise and shine, old man," he said to a pronounced collarbone.   
  
Remus' chest rose under his hand in a deep breath, and Sirius smiled as fingertips made one light trail down his back. "I'm not old," Remus mumbled.  
  
"Breaking down more every day," said Sirius. He moved his foot slightly under the sheet, searching for the pleasantly shocking spots of cool. "Decrepit." Firm muscles hidden between pale, thin skin and sharp bones, really. Frailty, strength, frailty. Made no sense, but lovely to think about... And damn that sunlight. "Wasting away."   
  
He finally opened his eyes to see Remus watching him with a wry smile. "Debilitated?" Remus suggested.  
  
"Yeah, that's a good one. Falling apart."  
  
"Maybe I should grow a beard."  
  
Sirius brushed his lips along the rough jawline. "But then you could never feel that again."  
  
"I don't have much longer to live anyway."   
  
"Mmm," said Sirius, kissing him, "then no time to grow a beard."   
  
And no more talking. Remus had to leave again this morning, and they had gone to bed last night with every intention of shagging each other senseless -- only to find themselves huddled together, falling asleep. Now Sirius wanted the decrepit body in his arms, the pale skin under his fingers, the deceptive muscles moving against him, the smiling mouth opening under his. Their mouths tasted sour with sleep, but he didn't care.   
  
"Remus," he breathed into the kiss. He wanted to add,  _Stay_ , or  _Let me go with you_ , but there was no point in repeating those words. Not as much point as there was in repeating better things. "Yes," and Remus' name over and over, things he never tired of saying.  
  
"There, Sirius. Please..." The things he never tired of hearing, murmured into his ear on hot breath. "Sirius..."  
  
He recalled the night two years ago when Remus had addressed him by his name. Not "Black" or "You there!" His name. He had heard it spoken once or twice since Peter had used it.  _How could you, Sirius?_  But no one had addressed him by it since that day.   
  
Only one thing sounded better than Remus saying his name, and that was Remus breathing his name because he found pleasure in it, because he wanted more, because he loved him. Nothing tasted better than exchanging gasps of "Remus" and "Sirius" against each other's lips, morning breath and all. Nothing -- nothing -- felt better than Remus' hands on him, Remus inside him. And then coming together, gasping for breath though they felt more alive than ever.  
  
Remus kissed him and settled against him, and Sirius closed his eyes as long fingers threaded lazily into his hair. "I've been thinking about the mirrors," Sirius said quietly.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I was thinking about giving James' mirror to Harry."   
  
There was a long silence. Remus had been taking James' mirror with him; it was their only way to stay in contact with each other, sometimes for weeks. This time, it would be two weeks. Sirius shut his mind against the thought.   
  
"What about us?" Remus asked finally.  
  
"I think Harry needs it. He might need me." Sirius turned to meet Remus' eyes, but could read nothing in them. "Are you angry? We don't have to."  
  
Remus smoothed the hair back from his face and smiled. "I think it's a good idea. But are  _you_  going to be okay with that?"  
  
 _No, I'll go mad without being able to talk to you._  "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. At least it would be doing something, right?"  
  
"Sirius." Remus' tone had warning in it, but his expression was gentle.  
  
Familiar resentment and frustration welled up in his throat, but he swallowed the words. They had nothing to do with Remus. There was only one thing that had to do with Remus, one thing to say. "Love you."  
  
The hand in his hair stilled, and Remus pressed warm lips to his neck. Sirius didn't even realize that he had fallen back to sleep until he stirred and opened his eyes to find Remus gone.


End file.
